Free Pass
by Thegreenconsultingdragonlord
Summary: Arthur is a prat who doesn't know how to express his feelings. Merlin is smarter than Arthur gives him credit for. One-shot. Fluff. Merlin/Arthur. Modern AU.


**So, I got this idea from a manga. Two of the characters were in a sort of similar situation and I couldn't help but imagine how a scene like that would play out with Merlin and Arthur. At the time I was in the middle of writing 'The Raven', which is a multi-chapter Merlin/Arthur fic set in a university. I was just so invested in that universe, that I decided to set this one-shot in a similar setting :) Hope you enjoy it! **

**P.S. This has not been brit-picked, so I apologise for any mistakes in the slang **

**P.S.S Thank you so much to Sarah and Caitlin for giving me feedback on this fic! **

* * *

**Free Pass**

They had only been dating for a few months, but Merlin found that he had developed this special ability to understand what Arthur really meant to say, even when his words said something different. It was a quality he had been forced to develop in order to keep their relationship from being unnecessarily difficult. The prat was so emotionally constipated that sometimes he even had a hard time paying Merlin a simple compliment. During the annual Elmsbrooke Winter formal dinner and dance, for example, when Merlin had dressed up in the nicest suit he'd owned, Arthur still hadn't been able to tell him he looked good. Merlin had walked into his room, and Arthur had done a double take and his mouth had opened and closed wordlessly making Merlin blush, but all he'd done was push Merlin out the door with a gruff, "You're late."

They hadn't been 'dates' per say, given that - on Arthur's behest - they were still hiding the fact that they were together. But they _were _dating, and in Merlin's mind that meant that Arthur still had to do the things a person was supposed to do for their dates during the Winter Formal. Which included complimenting them on the amount of time and effort they had put into getting ready.

Arthur had almost done it too. At one point during the dinner Arthur had turned to him, a wistful look in his eyes, and said his name very softly.

"Yes?" Merlin had asked, his heart fluttering.

"You… look better than usual today." He'd mumbled, turning back to his food.

It hadn't been quite what Merlin was hoping for, but it was someth…

"Seems like I'm rubbing off on you," Arthur had finished and Merlin sighed irritatedly.

But at least he knew that in Arthur-speak, that meant Arthur thought he looked fantastic. Merlin had become so fluent in Arthur-speak, in fact, that he could tell what Arthur was feeling from the look in his eyes and the way the muscles in his face twitched, and he knew what it meant when the prat ran his fingers through his hair, and when he smiled that stupid lopsided grin of his. Because that's who Arthur was - he was one for actions not words.

Though sometimes Merlin did wish Arthur would just come out and _say it. _

Arthur had always worn that mask of irritated apathy around him, right from the moment they had been introduced. Merlin had just started his second year at Elmsbrooke when he had joined Lancelot for lunch in the Caf, and his roommate had acquainted him with Arthur. He had seen Arthur before - they were in the same Medieval history class - but neither of them had ever bothered to initiate any form of interaction. During their first meal together Arthur had been curt and laconic, and hadn't said anything even remotely unlike small talk. But it was clear from his mannerisms that he possessed that annoying charming confidence that everyone was both envious and in awe of. Arthur had kept him at an arm's length, and Merlin had assumed it was because they were nothing more than strangers. After all, everyone else who knew Arthur seemed to agree that he was an irritating sod you couldn't help but like.

"His father owns _Dragonscape Computers,_" Gwen had informed him later that night, "His family practically oozes wealth. They probably rent out the Garden of Versailles every time they want to have a picnic."

But while everyone else was taken in by Arthur's sparkling eyes and charm, Merlin found the golden-haired boy increasingly more annoying with every meeting.

Mostly because Arthur had one extremely aggravating habit.

Merlin would frequently have lunch with him or bump into him in the hallways, and they would start off by having a really nice conversation. But just as Merlin would start believing his impression of Arthur was all wrong, the blond boy would abruptly get hostile and make some sort of snarky, rude comment before walking away and leaving Merlin irritated and confused.

"Why does he keep doing that?" Merlin asked Lancelot in the cafeteria one day, while forcefully dumping mashed potatoes on his plate, "We'll be having a really great time, and he'll be talking and joking and smiling, and then suddenly - out of the blue - bam! He becomes a complete arsehole. It's like someone turned on a switch!"

"He never does that with me," Lancelot had replied, quietly.

It made no sense whatsoever.

So Merlin finally confronted him at the end of their History class one day. They had been working on a project together, and Merlin was actually having fun. That was, until Arthur made a joke and Merlin laughed in response, and then suddenly Arthur was criticising his clothes and telling him to learn how to brush his hair _"You look like the stray dog that used to live on my street"._ It was only when their heated argument resulted in Arthur grabbing him by the front of his shirt and kissing him hard on the mouth, when Merlin realized that Arthur's hostile feelings for him were not quite because of the reasons he had initially believed.

They got together regularly after that. Sometimes in Arthur's room, and sometimes in Merlin's. They wouldn't necessarily do anything either. Sometimes they would just lie down on the bed together and talk, or watch TV. Merlin - not one for having meaningless hook-ups - assumed right from that earth-shaking kiss in the empty classroom that they were dating. But it was complete assumption. They hadn't talked about it to anyone, not even each other, save the conversation where Arthur had asked him not to tell anyone about 'what they were doing' (apparently his father would not take kindly to the fact that Arthur was 'going around' with a man). Which left Merlin constantly struggling to figure out the paradigms of their relationship, constantly unsure of whether or not Arthur believed he was more than just a warm mouth he enjoyed kissing.

Merlin had only found out the answer to_ that_ question one day when he was chatting with Gwaine in the library. Merlin and Gwaine had met when Merlin was racing down the hallway trying to get to his class on time. But being gifted with the gift of klutz like he was, Merlin had tripped and crashed straight into Gwaine. That day, Merlin had not only ended up making his professor furious when he walked into class ten minutes late, but he also ended up making a new friend. Gwaine was hilarious, and always had Merlin in stitches. They were always giggling with one another, and they were giggling that day too, when Arthur had interrupted and dragged Merlin away.

"What do you think you're doing!?" He had demanded when Gwaine was out of earshot.

"Talking to Gwaine," Merlin had replied, blankly.

"You weren't _talking, _you were flirting with him!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Yes you were. You were all…" Arthur waved his arms wildly, "Running your hands through your hair, and giggling… and all that."

Merlin had rolled his eyes and Arthur stuck in finger in his face, "You are _mine, _got that?"

It wasn't the most eloquent of declarations, but it made Merlin feel fuzzy inside to hear it. That also happened to be the moment when Merlin realized that Arthur was wearing a stubborn mask over his true emotions. And it was at that moment when Merlin decided that one day - just one day - he was going to make that mask crack.

* * *

Merlin found himself completely thrown off when, a day before the winter break on their way back from having dinner in the cafeteria, Arthur pulled out a small box.

"I got you a present," he said, shoving it into Merlin's hands.

"What's this?" Merlin asked, surprise colouring his voice and cheeks.

"An empty box, to store your minuscule brain," Arthur said, dryly. He shoved Merlin in the side with his elbow, carefully avoiding his eye. "It's a christmas present, you dolt!"

"But…" Merlin gaped at Arthur, "…I didn't get you anything," he finished, meekly. Arthur let out a short laugh, the air crystallizing as it left his lips.

"Yeah well, clearly I'm the better boyfriend," he teased. He laughed again when he saw the remorseful look on Merlin's face. "Oh stop it, you daffodil. It's honestly not that great of a gift." He nodded at it, "Come on then… open it."

Merlin grinned, his eyes twinkling as he attempted - unsuccessfully - to tear the wrapping paper with his thick gloves. It was only when they reached Arthur's large suite when Merlin threw his gloves across the room and gleefully tore the paper off to reveal a small nondescript box. Merlin opened it, his breath hitching in his throat, only to let it out in a small, disbelieving puff.

"What is this?" he demanded, picking up the carefully cut rectangle piece of paper. He turned to Arthur, frowning. "Your father is a billionaire, and you give me a _piece of paper _for Christmas?" He sniffed, exaggeratedly, "I no longer feel bad for not getting you anything."

"At least read it," Arthur groused, pulling off his own gloves. Merlin could hear a hint of nervousness in his voice, which made him raise an eyebrow as he turned the paper over to reveal a carefully written set of instructions:

**Free Pass**

**By presenting this pass, the possessor of the pass has the ability to make the giver do anything they want at the time the pass is presented. **

"Such big words, Arthur," Merlin teased, secretly relishing the blush that was creeping over Arthur's cheeks as the blonde boy waited for him to respond. "So I can make you do anything, huh?"

Arthur grinned, flopping down onto his bed and starting to pull his shoes off, "Yup."

"Anything at all?" Merlin asked, biting his lip to hold back the devilish grin that was threatening to take over.

"Yup."

Merlin remained standing, his thick coat making him feel warm in the toasty air of Arthur's room. But he didn't move, instead letting his eyes hover over those impossibly blue eyes that were staring back at him. He could see anticipation shining in them, and he almost felt guilty for what he was about to do.

Almost.

"Alright then," Merlin pulled off his scarf, slowly, "I want you to tell me how you feel about me."

The words hung in the air like icicles and Arthur's mouth dropped open, his eyes wide.

"What?" He asked, looking so horrified that Merlin let out a small laugh as he continued pulling off his winter apparel. "Are you serious?"

"Yup," Merlin said, beaming. He plopped himself down on the armchair that faced Arthur's bed, and yanked off his boots.

"I mean… I thought that like, maybe you'd… you know…" Arthur tilted his head slightly towards the bed, "You know, that's what I intended it for."

"I know what you intended it for," Merlin said, his voice clipped, "but you said I could use it for anything, and this is what I want. I want you to express, out loud, how you feel about me."

"You can make me do _anything,_" Arthur reminded him, a hint of desperation in his voice, "You can make me clean your bloody room if you want to."

"I don't really want my room to look like its been ransacked by blind robbers, thank you," Merlin said, wryly.

Arthur glared at him, and Merlin shot him a winning smile. Arthur then quickly dropped his gaze and, remembering himself, Merlin shoved the 'free pass' into his hands.

"There you go," Merlin said, brightly. "Let's hear it."

"I think you're very annoying," Arthur grumbled, "there. That's what I feel about you. I think you're a dollophead."

"That's my word," Merlin said, sticking his tongue out.

Arthur ignored him, continuing his grumbling, "I think you wear too many plaid shirts, and your hair is always dishevelled and it's annoying. Like… just take a second and brush it, won't you? And I hate it when you call me cabbagehead…" Merlin grinned "… because I hate cabbage, and its a dumb nickname. And I_ feel_ that you talk way too much about Marvel and your shirts are too bright…"

Merlin sighed, pulling his feet up on the armchair. He was trying to be cheerful, but Arthur's adamant insistence to stay away from anything even remotely sentimental was starting to get to him. "Alright Arthur," he muttered resignedly, cutting Arthur off, "I get it. You can stop now."

"No," Arthur said, grumpily, "you wanted to hear how I felt about you. Now listen."

"I wanted to hear…" Merlin sighed, and shook his head, brushing it off. "You know what? Never mind. Give me the pass back."

He leaned over to grab it, but Arthur held it out of reach, his fingers clamped around it.

"I hate your stupid dimples," he said forcefully, "because every time you smile, they make you look adorable and that makes my heart race."

Merlin froze, still on his knees reaching out for the pass. Arthur refused to make eye contact, and continued holding the paper out of reach, inadvertently crushing it. His gaze was focused on the carpet below his feet, his jaw stiff. "… and I hate how cute you look when you talk about things you like, and how you can make things I would have normally thought were boring sound like the most enthralling thing on the planet."

Merlin fell back on to the bed, still staring at Arthur, his breath hitching in his throat. Arthur lowered his arm, still not making eye contact. He was speaking faster now, fumbling with his words.

"…and I hate the way you scrunch your nose, and the sound of your laugh, and the way your voice sounds in the mornings when you wake up next to me. And I hate the way your stubble rubs against my cheek when you kiss me in the mornings, and the way your eyes crinkle in the corners, and the stupid insults you call me. And I can't stand that cologne you wear, because every time I smell it now it drives me insane because it reminds me of you. And I don't like the way you make me want to do pathetic things like slow dance, and… cuddle… and I hate the way you never take shit from anyone, especially me. And I hate the way your lips taste, and your dumb long eyelashes, and your sense of humour, and your ridiculous hypothetical questions…" Arthur stopped, out of breath and faltered. For a second neither of them said anything. Arthur because he was blushing so hard, he didn't dare open his mouth, and Merlin because he suddenly felt like the air in the room was far too thin for him to breathe.

"So yeah…" Arthur said, finally looking up so that their eyes met, making Merlin's heart beat manically in his chest, "I guess… well, I guess I love you." He looked down again, "But…" but before he could complete his sentence Merlin lips were on his, and he was being pushed down onto the bed.

"Don't ruin the moment," Merlin mumbled, between kisses and Arthur grinned.

"I was just going to say, 'But you already knew that, didn't you?'"

"Still," Merlin said beaming, "feels nice to hear you say it once in a while."

"Don't get used to it," Arthur grumbled, "you already used up your pass."

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**Hope you liked it! Leave me a review? **


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